That's my mother
by StrawberrySab
Summary: Alicia/Jason/Veronica because Vero would keep ringing that doorbell to the point of exhaustion. And because it was fun :P
_A/N 1 : For my faithful readers out there, nahhh, no worries, I haven't jumped ship, my heart is still in the same place and will always be, just stay tuned ;)_

 _A/N 2 : Seriously. It's Vero, how could I not jump on this :D Thank you Chrissie for the super fast betaing!3_

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Only when it's clear that mom doesn't have the slightest intention to surrender, do I heave an exasperated sigh, place one last quick kiss on Jason's lips, then unwillingly get up again. I put on a pair of shorts, then invite him to follow me. "Come on, big man, mom wants to _thank you_ ," I mock him. And as annoying and disappointing as it might be that she interrupted another moment, I can't help finding this whole situation surreally funny.

"Okay, you can stop trying to wake up the whole building, I'm coming!" I warn her, right before unsecuring the padlock, "and there are those devices called phones." I barely have the time to open the door that she's already made herself at home. At least she's alone this time. Or so I hope, I think, as I peep outside to make sure Owen is not right there with her.

"What? That ringing thing you wouldn't have bothered to answer anyway?"

"It was my day _off_ ," I remind her of my good reasons. "Anyway, Jason will be here in a minute, just the time to dress," I tell her immediately, so she doesn't feel the urge to peek and sneak into my bedroom again.

"Oh, why so much trouble, I've already seen all those tattoos anyway," she brushes me off, as she walks past me and sits at the kitchen island.

In moments like this, I'd gladly disappear. "Mom, please!" I whisper as I take a seat next to her, and I don't even know why, for Jason has already witnessed the full splendor of my family in these two days, so it can't get any more embarrassing.

When I hear the bedroom door open, I turn around to see him join us and I flash him a grateful smile for being fast.

"Hey Jason," mom singsongs his name and I start to think she enjoys it a bit too much.

"Hey Veronica," Jason replies politely, though not hiding a bit of genuine amusement.

I let mom talk, squeal, brag about how thankful she is for all the money she got back, yet stay all ears to avoid she crosses some line again, because one it's-all-about-the-orgasm speech was more than enough for a whole week.

But when she mentions giving him money, I interrupt her immediately. I know that's not why Jason helped today and the last thing I want is that she offends him, albeit I find it unlikely. "What.. No! Okay… mom, I think you thanked him enough, now stop before this gets really embarrassing. Also it's late, you should go home to sleep which is what the rest of the world does on Monday nights." I stand up from the stool to make clear that I had enough of everything for today and that all I want is to crawl back into my bed.

Very reluctantly, she stands up but doesn't show any will to leave. "What, I'm just telling the truth. None of your ex-boyfriends ever did something like this for me, except Will – God bless his soul, poor guy, I liked him so much – so the least I can do is to pay him," she persists.

I can't help flinching lightly at the mention of Will, and if I know Jason, this didn't pass unnoticed. I cast a quick glance at him and when I do, he shifts his smile from me to my mother and confirms my words.

"I didn't do it for money, Veronica, really, consider it … probono work. I'm just glad I could help out."

"See? He doesn't want any money," I repeat. And this time she really seems convinced.

When I finally succeed in kicking her out, I lean against the door, close my eyes and snort, frustrated that this day seemingly refuses to end. When I walk back into the kitchen, Jason and his entertained smile are still there to welcome me.

"Your mother is something," he observes. And this comes from just a couple of days of knowing her…

"I know," I agree, rolling my eyes and chuckling.

"Ohhhh, the non-verbal Alicia signs, you know you're cute when you do that eye roll thing?" he pokes fun at me, pointing at my face for the second time today. And I love and hate that he can read me so well, but I won't give him the satisfaction of winning at my own game so I quickly change subject.

"So, probono work, uh?" I tease him with a smirk, as I put my arms around his neck then lean in for a delicate kiss, and his hands are already tight around my waist.

"And promoted from painter to lover to boyfriend, in such a short time," he highlights and chuckles, definitely tickled by all the unexpected events of the past couple of days.

His words, the way he spells them, the way he looks at me, probably still incredulous at the outcome of what was supposed to be a _quiet_ weekend, make me burst out into a hearty laughter.

Still laughing, I catch him checking the clock. "Tired?" I throw a guess, confident that's far from being the reason.

He looks at me, the smile still on his face, but his look has changed. Deeper, a bit pensive. "No, just wondering if the twenty-four hours honesty expired."

 _Uh. Oh_. "I'm sure yes but… that depends on what you plan to ask?"

"Who was he?"

"Who?" I play numb while perfectly knowing his mind is replaying every word my mother said and especially those she shouldn't have. And when he doesn't add anything it's clear I'm not fooling him so easily.

"He was my… _lover_."

One eyebrow up. _Damn him and everything he doesn't say._ "Okay, I.. I loved him," I admit, tranquilly. Much to my surprise, it's become much easier to be honest about my feelings after the meltdown I had with Lucca. "He died two years ago."

"That courtroom shooting?"

His question takes me off guard. "So much for not investigating me, Mr. Crouse," I point out with faux offense, "but yes."

"Well, I needed to know what was so important to steal an election."

"I didn't st…." Then I see the smirk on his face and I realize he's just playing it down.

He stares at me, serious now, but he doesn't say anything and this time I have no idea of what he's thinking. But I know what I want, or better what I _don't_ want. "Listen, that's the maximum of honesty you'll get from me about this topic." Not to mention, I'm still confused by my earlier slip with Lucca.

"Gotcha," Jason nods, without complaining or trying to get more information from me. Instead, he releases me from the embrace and takes a couple of steps toward the bedroom, just to stop again when I don't follow him. "We should go back to bed."

"What happened to making the day longer?" I ask him, scrutinizing his face to read any sign of offense, or disappointment, for the small conversation we just had, just to realize there's none. Why would he? It's a part of my life he wasn't there to witness and the thought is actually relieving. He'll never judge my choices, right or wrong, because he has no reason to be jealous of someone that life decided to take away from me.

"Who said we are going to sleep?"

I look down, smile, then follow him to take up from where we left.


End file.
